


No More Lights Out

by hockeyhawk



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Awkward First Times, Denial of Feelings, Kaner is obvious, M/M, Relationship of Convenience, Sharing a Bed, Tazer gets a clue eventually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-08 15:25:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11084442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hockeyhawk/pseuds/hockeyhawk
Summary: They've had this thing going for a while. It's convenient. Jonny tries not to think about it.Apparently Kaner wants that to change.





	No More Lights Out

**Author's Note:**

> For the Blackhawks Summer Fic Fest Game 4 prompt “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”
> 
> Set some indeterminate time around the 2010-11 season, on an unidentified road trip

“Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

It’s truly testament to what he has laughably to think of as their relationship that as Jonny bothers to ask this question, the expression on Kaner’s face succeeds in saying that a) yes, of course there’s a goddam reason, Tazer, you think I’d just- and also b) but it’s _possible_ your definition of reason may be a little stricter than mine and you may be going to go ape over this. 

“I got beer on my bed. Also my pants.”

Yep. There it is. Now that he’s sniffing, Jonny can detect the fine (cheap, American) hops in the air. Great. He gets to sleep in a barroom. With a naked Patrick Kane, apparently.

“Also your pants. And… everything else you own?” 

Patrick explains, with gestures. Big, sweeping gestures that tell their own story about what Jonny missed. “My case was open on my bed. It kinda exploded. The beer, exploded. I sent everything to laundry, but-“

“But now you have no clothes.”

“Not till tomorrow,” says the feckless dick between Jonny’s sheets.

“And also nowhere to sleep except-“

“With you. Sorry, bud.” Kaner looks anything but sorry. The asshole. 

Okay. Jonny doesn’t exactly want to offer Kaner his own spare clothes, but he isn’t a light packer, despite four years of the ridiculous NHL schedule, so it’s possible. “Okay, well- Hey, where’s my stuff?”

Kaner does, finally, look a little ashamed. “I was looking for your cellphone charger-“ Which he steals, always. Jonny may be a little messy around hotel rooms, but Kaner’s the one that leaves shit at home, relentlessly. “Your case was… also open?”

“So, wait, I have no other clothes too?” Seriously? He wasn’t delirious contemplating having to lend Kaner some underwear to get them through the night, but he would have done it. Anything else is- Well.

“Nope.” Kaner pops the P, any shame dissolving as he enjoys Jonny’s discomfort.

“Well.” Apparently Jonny’s stuck on that word. He swallows, with an effort. “That was… thorough.”

“Yep.” He pops it again. Enjoying the word too much. His mouth starts to turn up at the corners.

Jonny finally gets what’s going on here. 

See, the thing is? The NHL is a lot. Captaincy is a lot. Rooming with another random dude on the road is a _lot_ , especially when that dude is Kaner. And, over time, maybe Jonny’s found some ways of dealing with all of the above that- Well. That he doesn’t talk about in interviews, for sure. That he doesn’t talk about, period. That he tries, mostly, to not even think about. 

But this is definitely not the first time Patrick Kane has been naked in Jonny’s bed. 

Sometimes, those times when Jonny can’t stop himself having thoughts about this situation, he tries to think of it as responsible. Captainly, even. When Kaner’s in his bed, he’s not out drinking. When Kaner has his mouth full of Jonny’s dick, he’s not mouthing off, he’s not picking up groupies with waaaay too many twitter followers, and he’s not keeping Jonny awake. Or, at the exact moment he probably is (Jonny only passed out once during a beej and that was, like, exceptionally exhausting triple overtime waiver). But Kaner’s not stumbling in trashed at four am, disturbing Jonny’s schedule. These are good things.

But. 

Thing is, this is definitely not the first time Patrick Kane has been naked in Jonny’s bed _but_ they don’t talk about it. They don’t maneuvre situations which require it. They don’t do it with the lights on. They don’t _agree to share a bed_. It’s a lights-out, whispered, help-a-buddy-out thing. A pretty regular thing, now that Jonny’s forced into thinking about it. But not an official Thing. And although Kaner’s set this up like they have an excuse for it, it’s pretty blatant.

He wants to fuck. He’s set the scene. All Jonny has to do is say yes.

“Shit, Kaner. You’re so fuckin’ careless,” he says, and walks into the bathroom. Partly because he’s been in an actual barroom for two hours and needs to piss. Mostly, because he needs to think without Kaner’s eyes on him. 

Point one is: deniability. Kaner’s set the scene, and Jonny can go with it. Careless fuckup roomie forces bedsharing, goddammit, hey you got a boner, wanna hand with that? He can see how that goes. His dick, beer intake and urgent need to piss notwithstanding, can definitely get on board with that one. 

Point two is: avoidance. Kaner’s set the scene up pretty blatantly, but it’s not a red flag. It’s not a ‘Honey, we have to talk’ situation. Even if Jonny accepts that this is not a series of unlikely accidents, it’s probably just Kaner wanting to fuck. Which, Kaner wants to fuck pretty much all the time, even now they’re supposedly more mature and there are rookies who look up to them and shit. It doesn’t have to mean anything more than that he’s tired of waiting for Jonny to put the light out before getting his. 

Point three is: denial. Jonny never worked this through in his head before, but they’ve been doing this, now and again, for _four years_. That is a _lot_ of muffled handjobs, increasingly professional head, and rubbing off against one another in a way that never, quite, gets as far as anal, but definitely involves some stuff Jonny would call prep if he were doing it with a girl. Four years. Fuck. He’s had more sex with Patrick Kane than with anyone else in the world. 

That is tragic. Jonny needs to get a girl. A real girl, one he can talk about in interviews and take home to mom and have a couple cute kids with for Hawks TV specials. That’s always been the plan. And Jonny let the easiness of fooling around in the season distract him from that. He knows better. But, now that he’s thinking about it, the plan doesn’t seem like it’s so great.

He pisses, flushes, washes his hands, and avoids his eyes in the bathroom mirror. Brushes his teeth, too. Just a regular bedtime routine. 

Naked Patrick Kane waiting for him. 

Eventually, because you don’t get to be an NHL captain and still pussy out on your responsibilities, he leaves the bathroom. Kaner’s watching TV, calm. Not apparently waiting for anything. It’s possible Jonny read this wrong. 

He strips out of his clothes, hanging them carefully in case the hotel laundry craps out on them tonight. Hesitates at his underwear, but shit, why pretend? Strips out of that, too. When he looks over at the bed, Kaner’s openly watching. 

There’s lube on the nightstand. Kaner notices Jonny noticing, and suddenly Jonny knows that he’s not just having fun with this. Shit, maybe it is “we have to talk” time after all? But Kaner’s saying something else, something Jonny almost misses amid the roaring in his ears. “-maybe wanna fuck me. For real?”

Jonny’s dick pre-empts pretty much any other response by hardening so fast and so _much_ it’s goddam painful. He gasps aloud, marooned in the middle of the carpet, too far from the bed to not have to walk, ridiculous dick-bobbing steps till he’s there beside Kaner, and Kaner’s saying smugly, “Guess so, huh?”

“Guh,” is what Jonny has to contribute at this point. It’s not just the blood fleeing his brain, it’s a whole confused mass of thoughts avalanching upon him. He’s done this with girls, a couple times, and it was good. Kaner’s offering. It’s really gay. He doesn’t have a condom – or, actually, he did, in his case, which Kaner doused in beer and sent to housekeeping to set this up. Why the shit did Kaner bother with- This really is a thing, right? Kaner’s setup is designed to make Jonny choose, out here in the light. They’re doing this, or they’re not. 

He flips back the bedcover, collapses on the bed by Kaner, and twists around to get his mouth on Kaner’s neck. The pulse fluttering against his tongue is fast, nervy. Kaner set this up, but he’s not calm about how it goes. Jonny wriggles closer, so his boner brushes up against Kaner’s hip, and he gasps a little. Zero to sixty in ten seconds, and he could just take what Kaner’s offering. 

In fact. He’s gonna take it. But-

“You really want?” he mumbles, still tasting Kaner’s skin. They don’t really kiss, not that much, but they’re both mouthy enough that they’ve learned open lips on throats, biting at tight nipples, and the too-full, too-intense push of dick into mouth does a lot for both of them. Pretty well matched, in that regard. Should have maybe noticed that before. But it doesn’t mean a lot, compatibility that way, right? If they didn’t like to fuck each other, they’d never have kept on going for this long. 

Kaner’s not following the scramble of Jonny’s thoughts, focused more on the part Jonny’s dick is twitching for, bumping his hip, smearing wet already. “Yeah,” he says. “Feels good. For me.” Jonny has a second to try to process that, and to note too-clearly the fall of his stomach as he registers that Kaner’s done this with someone else, before he follows up with, “Kelsey said- and we bought a- and, uhh, yeah. It was-“ He swallows. “So I still, yanno, sometimes-“

 _My girlfriend from last summer wanted to peg me, and I didn’t hate it_ , Jonny translates, because he speaks embarrassed-Patrick-Kane better than almost anyone alive. And apparently Kaner has a toy or two that Jonny’s never known about. Which is interesting, and in another life, the life outside this bed he’d maybe call that gross, or mockable, because that’s what you do in the world they live in. In this bed, though, he lurches across Kaner’s body till they’re roughly dick to dick, bites at his throat a little and says, “Yeah. Yes, _please_.” 

Kaner shakes with laughter under him at the please, Canadian sex-talk being a joke he has with himself (Jonny doesn’t find it funny, though he kind of knows it’s coming nowadays). He says, “Good. Hate to waste the lube.” And- Patrick Kane is naked, and prepped, and waiting in Jonny’s bed, waiting for Jonny’s dick. It’s a lot, if you were going to think about it that way. 

Jonny’s dick appreciates the thought, though, and Kaner’s already hitching one knee outside of Jonny’s hip, pulling it in toward his own chest as Jonny lifts off of him to look down their tangled bodies. At Kaner, opening up for him, as Jonny makes space for them both to change positions, till Kaner’s ankle slips right up over his shoulder. He slides a finger between Kaner’s ass-cheeks, cautiously exploring, and _shit_ , he really did prep. Slippery and open, taking the one finger easy as anything, so easy Jonny goes with two without asking nicely. Watches Kaner’s head fall back, throat bared, head rolling a little as he gives a couple little moans, and then half-relaxes around Jonny’s fingers, taking the in-out, messy squelch of excessive lube and Jonny’s eager clumsiness. “’s good,” Kaner says after a while. “Do me with three for a while, I need-“

 _I need you to open me up, because I’m really tight, and I never did this with a real dick before, and I’m a little nervous_. Jonny fills in the blanks some more, and it’s okay as long as he doesn’t _think_ about this too hard. About what Patrick’s offering, and Jonny’s taking. The stretch, even more lube to make triply certain everyone’s okay here, till it’s easy, till Kaner’s ready, and Jonny says, “I don’t have a condom-“ and Kaner says, “No need, right?” and Jonny’s sex ed teacher is screaming at him but also he’s clean, and Kaner’s… kind of a virgin, shit, don’t think about it, as he pushes cautiously, just the tip, into Kaner. Who tightens, and swears, and it’s not going to work. And then breathes, the way the trainers tell them to, breathes and relaxes and _opens_ , and Jonny pops right inside him. Fucking bare.

Jonny manages maybe thirty seconds’ stillness before he gasps, “Can I?” and Kaner says, “Ngh, a little, I think?” and he rocks, tiny and incremental, hot and tightly-clasped and _so_ close to the edge he almost hopes Kaner can’t take any more. But after a moment, Kaner sighs, the tight clench around Jonny’s dick fractionally eases, and Kaner fucking _wriggles_ on him. Then kicks him in the shoulder and says, “Go.”

Fucking Patrick Kane is maybe the best and also the least classy thing Jonny has ever done with his life. He lasts an inglorious couple minutes more, and comes while Kaner swears around him, “Don’t you fucking dare leave me hanging you _asshole_.” But some things will not be denied, and this cascading orgasm is definitely one of them. 

Jonny lies, beached, on top of Kaner for too long, afterward. Kaner kicks him again, eventually. “Off.” He flinches when Jonny’s softening dick pulls out, and adds, “Gross,” as Jonny rolls away. “You are _no gentleman_ ,” he finishes, genuinely irritated and yet still laughing about it. Which is why Jonny never actually begged to get another room assignment, and probably why they’re still doing this thing, honestly. 

Jonny takes one more recovery moment before rolling groggily back to pay attention to his indignant- what? Lover? Teammate? Boyfri- Nope. Kaner’s dick isn’t all the way hard. Jonny’s pretty sure he lost his erection completely when Jonny pushed inside him, but it’s fighting back now. He fists it briefly, feeling the smooth flesh grow, hotter and harder, familiar, after so many times in the dark. Then Jonny gets an elbow under him, for the angle, and ducks his head. 

Sucking dick is way better than he’d have guessed. This is something Jonny noticed about himself a couple years back, and something he’s been trying to un-notice ever since. It gets him hard, sometimes. Not so much this time, he pretty much emptied his balls just now and he’s not a teenager any more. But it’s still pretty fun, tonguing the slit, hearing Kaner groan. He likes having his balls rolled, so Jonny gets on that, too. It’s not every day you take a guy’s ass cherry (definitely how Kaner would describe this, apparently Jonny has caught some awful American sex-talk along the way), so Kaner gets the full service in return. Jonny’s exploring fingers meet stickiness. Jesus. That’s a lot of lube, all over- That’s not just lube. He slips fingers further back, and raises his head to check Kaner’s okay with this. Has to be sore, right? But Kaner’s up on his elbows, staring down his body at Jonny’s mouth on his dick. Jonny almost ducks away, but- “Can I see?” 

Kaner flushes, a hot wave of scarlet all up from belly to brows. From someone known as shameless, it’s pretty impressive, and Jonny feels his own cheeks heating in response. “Sorry,” he says, just as Kaner, being Kaner, says, “You want to look? You want to see your come dripping out my ass, huh? You just better clear up the mess you made, dude.” Which is hot and annoying all at once, just the way Kaner always is. He drops down flat on his back, reaches down to grip the backs of his thighs, and lifts. Opening himself bare, blatant and wide for Jonny. Jesus. 

He’s truly a mess, lube and spunk all over, and his hole’s pink, puffy with use. “You sore?” Jonny asks, cautiously rubbing one finger across the pucker. 

Kaner wriggles, shrugging. “A little? Feels okay. I’ve gone for way longer than you managed, you know? Silicon doesn’t come too soon.” He sounds edgy, which Jonny diagnoses as one part shyness to five parts wanting to come, and doesn’t take too seriously. He plays a little, thick white fluid dripping out, coating his fingers, pushing it back into Kaner’s ass. He almost, _almost_ dips down to taste. But they don’t do that, and it’s too gross to do without warning, he thinks. His exhausted dick stirs, disagreeing. But there’s only so many taboos Jonny’s willing to bust right now, so he refocuses. Presses one finger into Kaner and says, “Tell me when I find it, yeah?” He’s never found his own prostate, never had a girl who went looking, but how hard can it be? 

Kaner swears when he’s there, dick bouncing hard on his belly. Okay then. Jonny takes a mental note of _where_ and _how_ Kaner likes to be touched. Next time, he’ll know better what to aim for. 

Next time he fucks Patrick Kane, he notes. A few assumptions there, Toews. Just a few. 

He frees one hand from playing around with Kaner’s ass, takes hold of his dick and starts jerking him in earnest, fingers in his ass working in harmony. When Kaner comes, Jonny gets his mouth down and takes it all. 

The bed’s a mess already, he reasons. And they no longer have a spare. It’s just sensible to swallow. The way his dick’s throbbing at the feel of Kaner coming in his mouth makes that a lie, but a deniable one. 

They lie quietly a while, when Kaner’s done. Jonny half-heartedly grabs some Kleenex and tries to manage the wet, sticky disaster zone of Kaner’s ass, but eventually Kaner groans and rolls out of bed, heading for the shower. “Too gross to sleep,” he says, over his shoulder. 

Jonny finds one of the less sticky spots on the bed, and tries to focus on the tv, showing some stupid Weather Channel disaster program all this time. His thoughts refuse to settle, dancing around Kaner, fucking bare, exactly how much he enjoys this thing they do and don’t talk about. And, reluctantly, how they apparently need to talk about it. 

Kaner always takes ridiculous showers, and Jonny has way too long to contemplate what he’s going to say. But when the bathroom door finally opens, he’s blindsided. Kaner’s wearing a towel, tight-wrapped around his midriff, and his eyes are red. He always was an easy crier, and an indiscreet one. But Jonny wasn’t expecting-

“Did I hurt you?” he says. Urgent. 

“What?” says Kaner, vaguely. Apparently not realising how crappy he looks. “No, it’s cool.”

“Then why are you all-“ Jonny gestures. He tries to find a way to say ‘upset’ that doesn’t sound girly, and fails. “-covered up?” he compromises. 

“Thought you’d prefer it,” Kaner responds, and he’s already looking a little better, maybe? But he adds, “Keep my gay ass away from you?”

Jonny’s actually bewildered, too much to hide it. “What the fuck are you talking about?” The way Kaner gapes at him makes him realise he’s not playing some part Kaner was expecting, but he can’t work out what that would be. 

“We just had sex,” Kaner says. “I assumed we weren’t going to talk about it.”

Well. Jonny can see where he got that from. And there’s a part of him that longs to take the out. But, “I think maybe we should. Talk.” Kaner shrugs, hunched in on himself. Still towel-wrapped and far from the bed. This isn’t right. This really isn’t Kaner-like. “Probably should have talked before, huh?”

Kaner relaxes, just a little. Loses the towel and crawls onto the bed, wincing as he tries to pick a spot. “Nah. I got it. We can’t let this be a thing, right? And it’s not. It’s cool. I just- I wanted-”

 _I just wanted to try anal with a real dick_ , supplies Jonny’s brain. Could be. That could be the fill-in-the-blanks for Kaner here. Or it could be how Jonny reads it, anyway. That’d be easy. Maybe get a little more honest about the buddy-fucking. Maybe do it with the lights on. Maybe do it more. Maybe not feel guilty about it. Just a couple guys, with curiosity, and needs.

 _I just really like what we do. I wanted to see if maybe we could be honest about this. See where it goes. I just like you, man._ Could be that reading fits better. Could be that Jonny’s really overreading this stuff. Could be that even if that’s what Kaner’s thinking, Jonny’s better not picking up on it. This could be tough to handle. Not something they’d ever be able to acknowledge outside themselves. Explosive, if it goes bad. 

Jonny takes a deep mental breath. 

See, the thing is? The thing is, Jonny likes fucking Patrick Kane. Jonny _likes_ Patrick Kane, much though he’s amazed that it’s true. Jonny knows Kaner better than he knows anyone else, and he likes his company more than pretty much anyone he knows. Jonny enjoys the season more than the not-season, and it’s not all about the hockey. It’s about sharing the hockey with Kaner. It’s about, or it has been about, sharing this secret thing between them, the sex that’s probably better than any other sex Jonny has had, and the sex that would definitely be better if they moved to doing it with the lights on, and with actual capacity to talk about it. 

So he says, “I know. It’d be rough if it went bad.” Watches Kaner’s face fall, the hunch returning to his shoulders. Adds, “But if it goes good, I think it’ll be great. So… let’s do that.”

Patrick Kane has one of the best smiles Jonny knows. It curls now, round his mouth, transforming his face. “Yeah?” Jonny nods, feeling _great_ about this decision.

“Yeah you do,” Kaner crows. “You want a piece of this, right? Because _who can resist_ the Kane ass?” 

Jonny groans. Throws an arm over his eyes, and fumbles for the bedside light. “Yeah, Kaner. Sure. You’re irresistible. Why did we have to start talking about this?”

Kaner laughs obnoxiously, and does something that Jonny’s now allowed mentally to describe as cuddling, snuggled into Jonny’s side in the now-dark room. “There’s lots of shit I want to try. You think we can work out eighty-eight ways to fuck? That’d be cool.”

“Eighty-eight? Like you could even make it to double figures,” Jonny scoffs. While, okay, making a mental note to number up the options and make 19 a good one. 

“Maybe I’ll do you one of these days,” Kaner mumbles. Jonny freezes for a second. That would be- a lot?

Kaner wriggles around, squeezes a handful of Jonny’s ass, and says, “C’mon. You liked it that one time. In- was it Edmonton?” And apparently Kaner has designs on Jonny’s ass cherry. Has had for a while. And also apparently Jonny hasn’t forgotten the time in (in fact) Calgary. With the bubblegum-scented lube and Kaner laughing into his shoulder, and getting really, _really_ close to- That. Which, apparently, they are doing now. And eventually maybe Jonny will even give it a name. 

“Yeah,” he says. “Maybe we’ll work up to it.” 

Kaner cackles in his ear, and moves his hand from ass to dick, which _hello_. Jonny’s not completely done for the night, apparently. “Wanna go again?” says the guy Jonny’s banging, tonight and for the foreseeable future. “Bus doesn’t leave till nine.”

It’s really just prudent that Jonny acquiesces. Repression isn’t healthy. And they need to relax, right?

Kaner passes out on Jonny, after. Jonny blinks into the mostly-dark of another generic hotel room, another generic hotel bed he’s sharing with a naked Patrick Kane. This one feels different. Better. “Thanks,” he says, quietly, to the guy who broke him out of his denial. Said guy starts to snore. And to drool, just a little, onto Jonny’s chest. 

Jonny’s smiling as he falls asleep. Fucking Patrick Kane. Is a thing that he is doing. It’s pretty cool.


End file.
